Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash Clive James. the writer, broadcaster, poet, and literary critic, died a few days ago. I thought this was a good time to share one of his poems. Have you got a biro I can borrow? I’d like to write your name On the palm of my hand, on the walls of the hall The roof of the house, right across the land So when the sun comes up tomorrow It’ll look to this side of the hard-bitten planet Like a big yellow button with your name written on it Have you got a biro I can borrow? I’d like to write some lines In praise of your…

Photo by Denis Chick on Unsplash Do you have the urge to travel? Do you want to escape from everyday life and have new adventures? Then you will relate to this poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay. The railroad track is miles away,    And the day is loud with voices speaking, Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day    But I hear its whistle shrieking. All night there isn’t a train goes by,    Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming, But I see its cinders red on the sky,    And hear its engine steaming. My heart is warm with the friends I make,    And better…

Faith Shearin is an American writer who has published five volumes of poetry. She won the May Swenson Award. I didn’t find much information about her but I like this poem. They are taking so many things with them: their sewing machines and fine china, their ability to fold a newspaper with one hand and swat a fly. They are taking their rotary telephones, and fat televisions, and knitting needles, their cast iron frying pans, and Tupperware. They are packing away the picnics and perambulators, the wagons and church socials. They are wrapped in lipstick and big band music, dressed in recipes. Buried with them:  bathtubs with feet, front porches,…